Morgan's Day Off
by Illo2113
Summary: At his sister's behest, Morgan spends a day out on the town while the Shepherds are camped in a relatively peaceful area. Requests for help from a young villager, however, prompt him to have a more "active" day off than he had originally intended.


"It's already noon, and you're still in here. Are you seriously planning to stay in bed all day and read?"

Morgan looked up at his sister, who was silhouetted against the blinding white of the sun in the open flap of his tent. The light peering in burned his eyes slightly, and he raised a hand to shield them, using the other to hold open the book on war strategy that he had been flipping through.

"Uh, yeah, I guess so. Why?"

Lucina stepped further into the tent, a faint smile on her lips as she shook her head.

"We've been on the road for days, and yet when we finally stop at a town, you don't even get out of bed. I just thought that you might like to see the sights, meet some people, maybe eat something other than dried boar jerky," Lucina said, pointing to an empty bag that lay discarded on the ground.

"I just thought I'd take it easy today," Morgan shrugged. "Why do you care, anyways? Usually I'm the one trying to get you to, you know, _do_ things."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, usually you have that whole grim, broody thing going on. Why, just the other day it took me hours of begging and pleading to get you to go swimming in the lake we'd camped near with Owain and the others. We'd already spent ages on that self-defense technique you insisted I learn, but you _still_ wanted to keep training."

"Wh-I don't brood, I'm always-Can't I be worried about my little brother?"

"No, something is off," Morgan narrowed his eyes. "You never cared when I stayed in before, and usually around now you're busy training, or helping mother or father prepare for the next day. Yet, today, you're here and happier than I've seen you in a while. What're you hiding, Lucy?"

Lucina's cheeks grew red as she stammered: "Hiding? I'm not hiding anything, and I'm not training because I'm… waiting for father. Yes, we were going to spar together, and he said he would meet me, so I'm waiting for him."

Obviously, Morgan thought, she was lying. She was dressed more casual than usual, without any form of protection, and as far as Morgan could tell, hadn't brought Falchion with her. It would be difficult to spar without any sort of gear, and on top of that, father was currently in town himself, attempting to secure supplies for the Shepherds. Morgan decided not to point out these facts to his sister, out of respect for her privacy.

He put his book down gently and climbed out of bed, picking his coat up off the chair that it had been lying upon. The tome he kept strapped to the coat thudded against him as he put it on, a sensation he couldn't really remember not being accustomed to.

"If it means that much to you, I'll go out and see if there's a bakery that makes those nice little cheese pastries."

"Ooh, could you-"

"Get you some? What kind of brother would I be if I didn't?"

…

Morgan's eyes drifted around as he chewed the last bite of one of several rounded confections he had purchased from _Merriene's,_ a tiny mom-and-pop bakery that was apparently a local favorite. He'd been drawn to the bakery by aroma alone, the scent of cakes and cookies luring him into the establishment as easily as a mouse to cheese. Overpowered by a lust for sweets, Morgan spent a frankly irresponsible amount of gold on pastries, which he now carried in a wicker basket that had been kindly provided to him.

He closed his eyes and felt the sun and the breeze on his skin. He smiled at the chatter of rustling leaves and the sounds of overlapping voices, the inaudible conversations of people that he would never meet. For a moment, forgot about his worries: His memory, his future, his family, and felt…

A tug on his coat from behind.

"M-mister?"

Before Morgan turned around, he could tell that it was a young boy, probably no more than twelve years old. He saw that the boy had light skin and dark hair, and from head to toe only reached about as high as Morgan's stomach. Morgan lowered himself a little in order to reduce the height differential, but found that he still towered over the child.

"Ah, can I help you?"

"Are you a knight?"

"Sorry, I'm no-" Morgan paused, looking at the boy. His cheeks were wet, and there was a wet spot on his arm where he'd wiped his nose. His whole body was shaking, and he had watery emerald eyes. "Well, I suppose I am, in a sense. Why do you ask?"

"B-because knights always save princesses when they're in trouble."

Morgan kneeled down, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"I suppose that's true," Morgan chuckled lightly. "What's your name?"

"Elric."

"I like it. Do you know a princess in need of saving, Elric?"

"My s-sister, Crista. She's not a princess, but I thought that maybe y-you could make an exception, mister."

"What happened?"

"She t-took me to the forest, and we were walking, and then some guys attacked us. She told me to run, and I ran all the way back here, but I don't know what happened to her," Elric sniffled, tears streaming from his eyes once again. "I think they hurt her, b-but I didn't see…"

Morgans thoughts drifted for to Lucina.

"It's alright, it's okay. Elric, I promise you that I will find your sister, and I will bring her back to you."

"You will?" the boy asked, wiping his eyes.

"Of course, buddy," Morgan said, smiling. "I'm a knight, remember? It's what we do."

...

The woods were peaceful. They seemed to Morgan just as happy and peaceful as the town itself, but held a certain tranquility that was simply unavailable with the presence of man and its creations. Part of him longed to find a nice, comfortable spot under a tree to rest his eyes, but he resisted the urge in favor of aimless wandering. As it turned out, "the forest" was far less specific a location than he had hoped.

Searching his surroundings with intent, Morgan spotted something out of place in the undisturbed greenery, and stopped to take a closer look. There was a patch of ground with grasses torn, dirt scattered with abandon as though someone had been fighting the earth itself.

" _Or,"_ Morgan thought, " _As though someone had been struggling."_

Gashes in the dirt continued on, forming something of a path through the trees. As Morgan began to follow them, he realized that they were not created out of reckless fear or anger, but possibly with the idea that someone might find them in mind. The marks were consistent and fairly evenly spaced, outside of what Morgan thought would have been the initial site of attack. Deep enough for someone to follow, but not done with enough frequency or force to attract undue attention from a captor. Clever.

Morgan was relieved to find a complete lack of resistance as he walked alongside the tracks. He contemplated eating another pastry, but the thought left his mind as easily as it had entered when he found himself quickly approaching the mouth of a cave. Even though the makeshift trail ended where dirt gave way to rock, it was clear that this is where whoever had left the trail had been taken. Morgan made himself small, taking care to conceal himself using foliage or the shade of trees as he approached, though he couldn't actually see anyone at the moment. Taking another look around to make sure it was clear, Morgan dashed towards the cave's entrance, taking cover to the side so that he couldn't be seen by those within.

"I can't believe you let the little brat get away. Watch is going to be on us at any time, what in the name of the gods are we going to do now?" He heard from inside. The source of the voice was clearly agitated.

"It's going to be fine, man. You saw that town, there's no way they're going to have guys that can catch us before we leave, and we'll just leave tonight. The plan stays the same, we can still make a fine mint off this one alone," said a second voice. This one was confident and calm, completely different from the first.

"...Fine. I trust you."

"Not like I've ever let you down, is it?"

"No, you're right."

"I always am. I'm gonna take a nap, but if you decide you're bored, try not to rough up the merchandise too much. Gotta keep prices high."

"Heh. Sure thing."

Morgan stopped to think. He remembered a story his mother told him about two of the Shepherds, Gaius and Lon'Qu, and how they snuck into a hostile fortification. The two were able to steal nearly every weapon the enemy had, forcing a peaceful surrender. This would be easy compared to that, Morgan thought, as it sounded as though there were only two inside, and one was going to remove himself as a potential issue. All he would have to do is surprise and disarm the one that was awake, and it would be easy to deal with his cohort.

As he steeled himself for this task, Morgan heard the faint thud of footsteps approaching from behind. Startled, he spun to face them, coming face-to-face with a face that only a mother could love. Its owner was clad in shoddy leather armor, and looked as though he hadn't been bathed in a decade.

"Hey, who the-" the man started, sword halfway drawn, but was cut off as Morgan reflexively grabbed the tome at his side and channeled its power, throwing a ball of flame from his hand. It burst against his chest, and the scraps of hide he wore did nothing to protect him as it sent him screaming and convulsing to the ground.

" _Uh oh,"_ Morgan thought as the other two, having taken notice of their friend's screams, quickly made themselves known.

The two first saw their fallen comrade, who gave one final spasm before ceasing movement, his body continuing to burn. Morgan noticed that they looked much the same as the first in terms of both their general appearance and the gear they carried, though a noticeable difference was that these two had already drawn their weapons - one, a shortsword in dubious condition, and the other, a handaxe with a chipped head. Morgan acknowledged, however, that the poor condition of these weapons didn't mean they wouldn't be able to kill. They'd just hurt more.

The two charged him, and Morgan couldn't help but hesitate before hurling the basket of pastries. With the two distracted for a moment, Morgan unleashed a bolt of fire from his fingertips, striking the axe-wielding brigand in between the ribs and igniting his innards. He prepared to cast a second, but was forced to abort the spell as he sidestepped a deadly overhead slice.

Morgan barely had time to react as the bandit slashed again and again, and cursed himself for leaving his own at camp. He winced as he felt a cut on his hand, dropping his tome. He faced his attacker empty-handed, and smiled. It was a wide, fake smile, but he hoped that that, along with the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, would go unnoticed.

As expected, the sight of Morgan's complete disregard for him enraged the bandit, and he screamed as he thrust his sword forwards with murderous fury. Morgan's false smile became true as he deftly rotated his body to face the bandit's arm.

"Amateur!" Morgan shouted in triumph, grabbing the bandit's extended limb with both hands and driving a knee into the bandit's elbow from below. The arm snapped easily, and Morgan easily wrestled the sword out of his hand as it went limp. Before the bandit could register what had happened, Morgan had driven the tip of his own blade into his heart, using the force from the blow to knock the dying man to the ground.

Catching his breath, Morgan stepped back towards the opening of the cave. A pit of charcoal and stone marked the remains of a fire. A short distance away, something that looked an awful lot like a human being tied up with rope wriggled, trying to bring themselves upright.

Morgan crouched beside them, undoing their bindings and removing a rag that had been tied around their head and stuffed in their mouth. As he brought them to their feet, Morgan was able to get a good look at them for the first time - It was a girl about his age, with light skin and dark hair. She had defiant emerald eyes.

"Are you Crista?" He asked.

"...I am. How did you find me?"

"Your brother sent me."

"That means he got away, then?"

"Yeah, he found me in town and told me what happened."

"Thank the gods."

"Can you walk?"

"I'm standing, aren't I?"

"I suppose you are. I'll take you back to town, Elric showed me where you live. I told him to wait there."

As he led Crista to the cave's exit, it occurred to him that he had left the bodies of Crista's captors in the open.

"Er, you may want to shield your eyes for a bit, Crista."

"How come?" Crista looked at him quizzically.

"Well, it's just, the people that took you tried to stop me from taking you back."

"I'm not an infant, I'm sure I've seen worse," she replied. Nevertheless, Morgan saw her covering her eyes with an open hand, the other holding onto his own.

"Just don't let me bump into anything, okay?" she said with false indignance.

…

The walk back was, thankfully, uneventful. Crista did not seem in the mood to hold a conversation with her savior, and Morgan had no issue with the silence.

Morgan saw Elric waiting on the steps as they arrived. Unable to contain his happiness at the sight of his sister, Elric nearly knocked her over as he jumped into her arms.

"I w-was so worried about you," he sobbed.

"I know, buddy," Crista laughed as tears welled into her eyes. "I was worried about you, too. I'm so glad you're safe."

Morgan looked on as the two embraced, the sun just barely beginning to dip below the horizon.

"Tell you what, El. If you fetch some water from the well, I'll make that soup that you love, okay?" Crista said, playfully messing with her brother's hair.

"You won't leave again?" Elric sniffled.

"Nope, I'll be right here waiting."

"Okay!"

As her brother dashed away with newfound energy, Crista turned to Morgan once more.

"Hey, hero. Do you mind waiting there for just a minute? I want to grab something from inside, but I'll be right back."

Morgan looked at her with confusion, having lost himself in the moment.

"Oh, uh, sure."

"Great. It'll just be a minute."

With that, Crista ran into her home with the same energy that her brother had just left. She came back out not more than thirty seconds later holding something behind her back.

"I just wanted to give you this, to thank you." Crista held her hands out, revealing an old, leather-bound volume.

Morgan carefully picked it up, examining the cover. _Of Valor and Valiance._

"For saving you? Thank you, but you really don't have to,"

"Not for saving me," Crista interrupted. "For saving Elric. I've been his only family for a long time, and I don't know how he would've gotten by if he lost me, too."

"Oh, I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. Regardless, I thought you might like this, and it's the least I could do after what you did for us. I used to read those to my brother when he was even younger than he is now, and he always loved those stories about knights."

"Seems like a strange thing to give someone you've only just met, doesn't it?"

"Maybe. It used to be our father's, so I normally wouldn't dream of letting it go, but for some reason I feel as though he would want you to have it. It's entirely possible that's just the shock kicking in, though."

Morgan ran his fingers over the front of the book, feeling the softness of the aged leather.

"I'll take good care of it."

"Now that you mention it, actually, I don't even know your name, do I?" Crista wondered aloud.

"Oh, I'm Morgan. My name's Morgan."

"Hm…" Crista rubbed her chin as though in deep thought. "Kind of sounds like a girl's name, don't you think?"

Morgan chuckled heartily.

"So I've heard."

"Well, Morgan, I do have one more gift for you."

"Another one? What would that b-"

Morgan was silenced as Crista's lips pressed against his own, and he felt a brief flash of warmth before she pulled away.

"I better get started on that soup," Crista said, blushing softly. "Maybe we'll see each other again. Under better circumstances."

"Y-yeah," Morgan squeaked.

…

"That looks like a new one, where'd you get that?"

Morgan looked up at his sister, who was silhouetted against the fiery orange of the setting sun in the open flap of his tent. She nodded towards the heavy-looking leather-bound book he was flipping through.

"Oh, I picked it up in town today."

Lucina stepped further into the tent, a smile on her lips as she shook her head.

"You spend all day in town and all you come back with is another book. You didn't even manage to bring me any baked goods!" Lucina said, pouting. As she looked at her brother, though, she noticed a cut on the back of his hand.

"Morgan! What happened?"

Morgan looked at his hand, having forgotten entirely about the wound he had received that day, and shrugged.

"Papercut, I suppose."

"...Alright," Lucina frowned. "Oh, I nearly forgot - Mother and Father wanted to have supper with us tonight. Are you coming?"

Morgan gently set his book to the side and got up from his bed, grinning.

"There's nothing I'd like more."


End file.
